


Perfection

by Dhely



Category: All New X Factor
Genre: Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-19 09:21:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2383112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dhely/pseuds/Dhely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some nightmares are back to haunt Pietro, and he is almost about to break</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmares and memories

Pietro opened wise his eyes.

He was in a cold, icy sweat, and he was shaking. The feeling of terror and fear and disgust was here, to squeeze his throat, as ever.

He swallowed a few gulps of air, trying desperately to calm down. He turned on his side, he could not breathe, he could not think. He could not stop shaking and quiver.

He was alone, there was no one with him, here: nor his sister, or his wife or his daughter, or Lorna, even Magneto. He needed to have someone at his side, to feel the warmth of someone close, the breath..

He passed his fingers through his hair, tugging.

He focused on his breathing, on his heartbeat, his control had always been something to be proud of.

Something painfully twisted his guts.

He tried desperately to sit up on the bed, then to stand up. His leg were shaking, he felt dizzy and nauseous. He felt trapped, hunted.

Alone, fragile, small. Used.

But he had..

It was his fault. His.

He had to..

\---

Dough was standing outside the bathroom door for a few minutes when he turned hearing footsteps. He made a small smile.

“Hey Lorna.”

“Dough? – she frowned – Something wrong this morning?”

They heard the flow of water, then the silence.

“I think..”

The door opened and Pietro emerged from the bathroom with a horrible face. He looked as he had been hit by a train or something like that.

He was pale and seemed weak and tired, his lips tightened, dark circles under his eyes.

“I think I got a flu, Lorna. – his voice was low and husky scratching on the bottom of the throat - Let me have a few minutes to recover and I’ll be fine.”

He ran a hand through his messy hair: Dough noticed that his fingers were slightly shaking. Lorna nodded.

“Take a rest, Pietro. I want you all right. – then she softened - Do you want some breakfast?”

Pietro wrinkled his nose, touching his stomach with an hand.

“No. I do not think being able to eat something now. ”

She smiled and walked into the kitchen. Dough was still with his eyes fixed on him.

“If you need something, Pietro, I can..”

“Sure, Dough. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Pietro walked up slowly to his room, without looking up from the floor.

Dough looked at him worried and surprised, then he turned his attention to Remy, appeared not far to him.

He snorted.

“What happens?”

“He felt sick, and..”

“He’s such a drama queen..- he shrugged - Listen Remy, do not be fooled by him.”

Dough looked at him annoyed.

“I think you’re jealous.”

Remy laughed.

“Of him? Yes, sure!- he smiled at him, his flashy red eyes on him made Dough shiver a bit, but he seemed genuinely concerned. Concerned in his own particular way, of course. –You’re only a boy, you’re kind and naïve, so it is normal for you to feel worried, but Remy ‘sures you that it is not necessary. Pietro is not that kind of man.”

Dough blinked doubtfully.

“I don’t understand..”

He smiled putting an hand on his shoulder.

“Go to breakfast. You and Remy should have a talk man to man one of these day.”

\---

Lorna sighed a bit. She was concerned about Pietro, sure, but he was able to heal very quickly and maybe he could go back to work already by noon.

 A flu. She did not even know that Pietro could take a flu, but in the end he was like all of them, only faster.

What she and all of them really needed, now, was to be a team, become a real one. They had to be united and strong, they had to match each other and be at ease together. She knew how it should have been, but was not sure how to do it.

She was tormented by those thoughts since she was appointed team leader by Mr. Snow.

She was sure they were doing their best, and it seemed to see some improvements, but  they were small and slow and .. she chuckled softly in front of her breakfast. Since she sound like her brother?

Remy gave her a bright smile coming into the kitchen, Dough looked puzzled and worried instead: Lorna tried her best to look relaxed.

“Dough, do you want something to eat? Pietro’s breakfast is ready.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, laying the plate in front of him. Dough smiled.

“It’s for me? It smells delicious. Thanks Lorna!”

Remy snorted.

“Remy have been a good boy too. There is something for him?”

She smiled harsh at him. She had not yet forgiven him for the affair with Mrs. Snow

“I am sure that you are able to cook whatever you want. And remember that, without Pietro, this morning you have to do his routine checks.”

Remy muttered something that sounded like ‘boring as hell’ but made no other complaints. It was a good result: they had begun to treat her really as a leader, and to respect her.

Lorna was satisfied.

The breakfast was quiet and calm.

When she finished she looked at Dough.

“Now I'll check how is Pietro. After that, I need you in briefing room. Remy? I trust you.”

They both nodded.

It was great.


	2. Memories are worse than nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Often memories are worse than nightmares. Sometimes they are just the beginning of the nightmare.  
> And Remy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I assure you, I *LOVE* Magneto! I'm so sorry...  
> The castle is a reminder of the books of the '90, when, after Pietro and Wanda were saved by a crowd that wanted to kill them, Magneto takes them to a ruined castle somewhere in Central Europe 
> 
> In Italic are the memories / dreams / thoughts

The mission was over. Lorna looked at them one by one when they get on the plane.

“Are all of you all right?”

Pietro nodded, sitting down in his place.

Remy snorted, glaring at him.

“I'd be better if you stopped to take Remy around like he was a sack of flour! It’s ..disrespectful!”

Pietro turned to him, looking him straight in the eye, an half smile in his lips.

“What are you saying? – then he shrugged with a faint smile  - And I assure you, a thank you  is more than enough. Anyway:  you’re welcome.”

Remy frowned but Lorna forced herself not to laugh.

“You're having fun, doesn’t it?” hissed Remy.

“No, I don’t. I just help a teammate in trouble. I think Lorna would be upset if I did not do it.”

Remy crossed his arms over his chest, closing his eyes.

Pietro was  boring and arrogant, superb, he considered himself better than anyone else, he always thought of doing the right thing at the right time. Remy could not stand him.

But after that press conference he felt slightly sympathetic with him: Remy was fully aware of how was easy to make mistakes, and how it was complicated and difficult to admit them. Pietro made many serious mistakes , and maybe he really deserved to be put in prison or killed for them, but at least he showed a lot of courage to admit them in that way, facing the entire world without hiding.

Maybe there was someone, somewhere, who was to bring him to court, or something, to accuse him of mass murder, or to claim damages. Remy, like all of them, thought it was more likely that someone tried to kill him with his own hands: at the end they were a team, and he knew that, if that happened, he would do everything he could to help him.

But, sometimes, it was fun to tease him that way, and wait to see his reaction.

Yes, he did not trust him, and they had never really stopped arguing, but now Remy felt at ease at his side, set near him on the plane as now, quiet, in silence, enjoying his presence.

Pietro had changed, it was obvious, but if it was for the press conference or for Luna or for who knows what else, he did not know. Pietro didn’t talk about it, and Remy accepted it.

At last they weren’t friends, but they were teammates.

He looked up at him: he sat still, with his long, strong, slender legs crossed in an elegant way, his face turned toward the window. He looked like he was thinking of something distant, serious and almost sad.

But Remy was not the only one staring at Pietro.

Dough tried not to show it, but he couldn’t stop looked at him.

Remy let out a smile: he was able to recognize the attraction when he saw it, and that was a funny situation. Dough was a nice and smart boy but he seemed as he was caught in a spell, absolutely, completely fascinated by Pietro in the last day.

He wasn’t sure Pietro had noticed it: maybe he was just hoping Dough would simply change his mind, or he didn’t care.

Remy had to be honest with himself: Pietro needed at his side someone other than Dough , he needed someone more adult, more.. Remy froze. He did not know why he had a thought like that, and he did not want to have it again. Surely, Pietro was attractive and sexy, but..

Remy swallowed, shaking his head; he had to remove those thoughts from his head, the thoughts in which  Pietro was lying on his bed, smiling at him, sensual and naked, whit his white skin exposed, his eyes sparkling  beneath his long, fleshly lashes..

Pietro was staring at him, his usual rigid expression, and a small hint of curiosity.

“Are you all right, Gambit?”

His voice was low, quiet, probably neither Lorna nor Dough could hear him. It was strange that Pietro cared about him, but it was a nice feeling. Remy smiled, his cheeks burning.

“Sure. Don’t worry, I’m only half asleep..”

\---

_It was a castle, a real one. It was great and grey, built with large rough stones. It was cold and dusty but Pietro had never even imagined being able to live a day in such a place. He had never seen an house so enormous and .. he did not even know the words to describe it._

_And now he was here in front of their savior and he felt.. ashamed and grateful and frightened by him. Yes, he saved Wanda and him, he had rescued them before they were killed by a group of people who hated them just because they thought Wanda was a witch._

_But he had such a pair of eyes! So blue and piercing and sharp. He was wearing a mantle, and something that looked like a helmet, as he was a king, or a knight. Or.. a god. A warrior god: he had killed so many people just raising a hand, full of anger and rage with something shining all around him! Pietro was really intimidated by him and by his power, even now with him there, quiet in a small room full of strange, old  furniture, looking at him with an hint of curiosity. It did not seem that he wanted to hurt them, but how could he be sure of something in front of a man with such a power?_

_Wanda had some power, shimmering and bright, but she had never ever thought about killing someone, even if she had been able to do that. Pietro had a power, too, but it was small and weak._

_“You've been here alone because I want to talk to you one by one. So, boy: you are really fast, it seems.”_

_He stood still here in front of him, frightened and confused. The man and he were here, alone in this room, and there was no place in which he could hidden, no place for run away.. enclosed spaces always made him feel caged, as if he were about to suffocate. And without Wanda he could not even find the strength and the courage to raise his eyes to the man’s._

_“I  ran, sir, yes.”_

_His voice seemed feeble, but the man smiled a bit at him as he wasn’t used to it._

_“No, you don’t run fast. You are fast: it’s different.”_

_He came towards him, he turned around him, watching him carefully as if he were weighing and analyzing him, as if he could look him through and find every his small secret. Pietro shivered._

_“Is it, sir?”_

_He nodded, stopping right in front of him._

_“At the medical lab, I analyzed a lot of things about you and your power. –his eyes were fixed on his, sparkling and terrifying, a dense blue ozone that froze his soul – I never even imagined a power that can change a body at every level, biological, biochemical, molecular, cellular, how your does. You do not run fast, you are fast: you body, your heart, your_ _synaptic_ _connections , everything in you is accelerated and the structure of your body has changed to tolerate it. Your muscles, your tendons, your bones have adapted to withstand the speed.”_

_Even his voice radiated power and strength. Pietro could hardly believe what he was hearing._

_“Me? I .. – Pietro swallowed – I thought it was Wanda the one with powers..”_

_“Yes, she’s really amazing even if she lacks of focus. But I know the energy powers, the physical ones are often less useful and less fascinating. –the man took a strand of silver hair between his gloved fingers- They have always been this color? Or have changed with your power? And how old are you?”_

_“We.. we are fourteen or fifteen years, - Pietro flushed – we do not remember exactly. But I've always had white hair, I can assure you, sir.”_

_He nodded._

_“Fascinating, really. – he whispered – Call me Magneto, it’s my name. And yours? You choose one?”_

_“My name is..”_

_“Not your human name, it is a slave name. -he snapped – You have to choose your mutant name, your real name. You’re silver, and fast, and you can be really dangerous. You might be fatal and deadly, and you will be one of my soldiers. Quicksilver: do you like it?”_

_“I.. – he blinked – it sounds..”_

_Magneto sighed._

_“I have to educate you, before I can train you. Quicksilver is a good name. At least it seems you have no problems in focus.”_

_Pietro smiled a bit._

_“I’m always nervous and impatient, I do not think I’m good to focus.”_

_He laughed._

_A real laugh. A terrifying one._

_“Your whole body is fast: your heart, your brain, each cell lives, grows and duplicates at an incredible speed. Your body is made to live faster how it does;  you have to slow down to stay with your sister: you have to focus every second of your life for it. Your willpower is well trained already, but I will make you absolutely, totally perfect, I promise you.”_

_Pietro was going to scream and flee, but he closed his eyes stiffening against the urgency to run away, the need to escape. His body tensed, his muscles began to vibrate slightly._

_“Exactly. – his voice was smiling - You are perfect. Your power is..”_

_Magneto put an hand on his shoulder._

_Pietro snapped. In a fraction of a second he pressed his back against the far wall, his eyes wide, ready to fight, ready to scream, ready to.._

_Magneto stared at him with a strange light in his eyes, he went close but not touching him, a different expression, more intense and worried. Then something inside him clicked, and he realized._

_Pietro’s knees began to shake, he curled up on the floor and Magneto lowered himself in front of him: he wanted to touch him, but he did not._

_“Humans?”_

_Pietro quivered hiding his face in his hands._

_“I..I don’t know, sir.. I was .. hungry and we could not buy .. and ..and they gave me money.. and I was hungry..”_

_A sob._

_Magneto shushed him with a sad smile._

_“Do not say anything. You do not have to be afraid now. You'll get your revenge. All of us will have.”_


	3. I deserve it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long confrontation between Pietro and Remy

Remy looked up at Pietro.

“Where is Luna?”

Pietro had gone out with her daughter and Georgia, and Remy thought he would be out at least until the evening..

Pietro shrugged.

“She is back home with her mother.”

Remy frowned. In the dim light of the room, lit only by the TV screen, he had not seen Pietro well. Now that he had come forward to sit on an armchair, he noted that he was disheveled and his clothes seemed to have been shoved and dusty.

He seemed to be returning from a brawl, and Pietro was not the guy who went to fight in and around the city.

“What has happened?”

Remy tried not to sound too worried. In the end he wasn’t, no?

Pietro raised an eyebrow.

“Luna has not informed his mother that she was coming here. The Inhumans were all very worried. So, when..”

“No. To you. What happened to you?”

Pietro snorted.

“The Inhumans were very concerned about Luna, - he repeated more slowly- for many things, most of which was my fault. So.. he overreacted.”

“He? Who..”

“Remy, please! What do you care?!”

Pietro snapped but he didn’t sound angry, he sounded annoyed and bored, as he was deadly tired.

Remy's eyes narrowed, red pupils sparkled like coals.

“It was just one?”

Pietro nodded in silence.

Rita Hayworth was smiling from the screen, and only her sexy voice filled the space between them.

“It is almost unbelievable.”

 “But it happened.”

“You let him catch you.”

Of course it was the only possible reason. Pietro was too fast, too trained to be hit in that way.

“I deserved it.”

His voice was low and calm, a whisper. It seemed to come from afar, or from the deep. Pietro ran an hand through his messy hair, trying to fix them.

He failed, there were some silver strands that would not stay down, others simply had decided to fall on his eyes. He was .. cute.

“No, you don’t.”

Remy was ready to a dried reaction, or to an angry ones.

Pietro just shook his head.

“You don’t understand. I really meant what I said at the press conference: I'm here, I'm not hiding, I admit all my mistakes.”

“And you don’t defend yourself.”

Pietro shrugged.

“I will not let them kill me, if that's what you're worried about.”

“But you let they hit you.”

He smiled, a pale, almost shy smile. It was the first time Pietro allowed Remy to look at his true self  in this way.

“I deserved it.” he repeated.

It seemed that phrase was an explanation, a reason enough for him; it seemed with that he could silence any questions or concerns.

 “Remy don’t think is the right way to expiate, and Remy assures you he knows the treacheries and the sins.”

Pietro didn’t respond.

He stood sitting into the armchair, watching the movie on TV without seeing it.

Remy sighed.

“You look very tired, lately.”

Pietro nodded.

“I struggle to fall asleep and wake up often during night. So, yes I’m tired.”

“Why don’t you see a doctor?”

"There is no sleeping pill that works for me: my metabolism burns it in a few minutes. Besides I knew I had these problems. I can never sleep well when I'm .. alone.”

He gave him a worried look, as if he hadn’t wanted to tell him what he had said, or as if he just wanted to check his reaction.

Remy smiled.

“Remy understand: he, too, doesn’t like to sleep alone. Sometimes he has nightmares, and he hates them. - it seemed to Remy that Pietro paled digging his fingers into the armrests of the chair: maybe that was a good spot to crack his armor. - You know it: distant memories, big mistakes, enormous guilt.”

“Yes. My past is hunting me. – he tossed – But I..”

“You deserved it. - Remy smiled at him, ending his sentence - You already said it, and Remy pays attention to what you say. ”

His voice lowered, becoming more gentle and warm. He did not want to scare him, he just wanted to help.

“Come to sit next to Remy. - added immediately, without moving  - Remy doesn’t like to talk about certain things aloud. This sofa is large, you can talk without touching each other.”

Remy was perfectly aware of how Pietro hates physical contact and he wanted at all costs to put him at ease. He wanted to help him, he wanted to be near him, and he wanted to understand him. He wanted to have a chance to figure out if the attraction he felt for him could be something real, and not only the result of what he could not have.

Pietro looked at him with glassy eyes.

Usually he would have scrutinized and weighed him with arrogance and suspicion, and then he would say something sharp and hateful: they would be ended to insult each other.

Not this time.

He sat next to him without protest.

“You're right, we should never talk about certain things.”

“Sure, but sometimes you have to, or they’ll eat you alive.”

Pietro closed his eyes, pressing his eyelids with two fingers.

“Our past is not avoidable. Never. Sometimes it is difficult to accept. Now I'm tired. Do not you .. don’t you ever get tired, Remy? "

His voice sounded sweet. Remy felt his heart jump into his throat, he wanted to hug him, there on the couch, and kiss him, and tell him that everything would be okay, because he would erase every mistake and replace the world for him.

It was a lie: this was a part of his power,  to always know what the other wanted and longed and needed in the most instinctive part of them.

Remy did not like when someone was suffering, and being reassuring was his way to make sure that the people around him was all right. He needed it, he could not bear the pain and sadness. At the end, he was good at flirting just because he was so good at lying, and he was lucky: he knew instinctively what the others wanted to hear and told them so; although he often not felt anything like this but it was not really important.

Now it was.

He looked at Pietro a bit shocked.

He needed  to be loved. He was there, desperate, sad, and let himself get beat up just because he needed to be loved:  was something so absolutely, totally normal that it seems impossible.

Pietro was not..

Pietro looked up at him, with a bitter smile.

“I'm sorry. I do not know what gets into me Remy. I need to..”

Remy grabbed his wrist, worried, his breath caught in his throat. Now he understood, and he did not like what he knew.

“You’re trying to get hurt. Really.”

A really harsh statement.

Pietro was about to hit him, and to scream to him he was crazy and he hated him, and..

“Yes.”

Remy did not hear his voice but he read it on his lips.

He looked at the shape of his lips, the profile of his eyes, the form of the eyebrows, at his eyelashes, at the expression on his face, at his slim and strong body. There was no softness in him, only long muscles and an edgy attitude. And despair.

“Why?”

“I.. - his voice broke, trembling. Pietro forced the breath out from his lips with a terrible effort – deser..”

“No!”

“I need..”

“No!”

Remy took his face between his hands and kissed him, just to shut him up. Just to feel his taste. Just to touch the consistency of his skin.

Everything  was perfect.


	4. The blood was one of the few things that could wash away the torment.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex and dark thoughts.. and Pietro, who is really fast to do everything!

To be hurt. To be hit.

There were moments in his life where he did not need anything else: to bleed, to feel pain, to cry for a reason that was not the weight he felt inside.

It was a crazy thing, it was not normal. He was not normal.

No, he was not. They had always said it: he was special. Perfect.

Pietro knew what meant to be perfect, he knew how difficult it was to be, and remain so, how much of himself had to be hidden and denied and rejected.

Sometimes, simply, it was too much. Too much to bear, to endure. It would take too much force, too much desire, too much pain, too much effort.

Sometimes he could not, he would not to be perfect.

He had ever done everything in his power because things were .. right, simply right.

He had to protect Wanda, he wanted everyone to be happy. He wanted to return the powers that were deleted because of him. He needed that Luna loved him, that Crystal loved him, that his father did not despise him. And now there was Lorna and Remy and Dough and the team.. and Luna, again, and Crystal and his duties , and his commitments, and the battles and his mistakes to be tackled.

He had lost everything, again. As always.

He had failed, he was wrong, and everything had collapsed to the ground in pieces. Again and again.

Yet, again.

He had not been able to help their parents, he had failed to protect Wanda, he had disappointed his father he had betrayed all of the few friends he had, he had failed as a husband and as a father. As a brother. As a mutant. As everything.

As far he strove, he always failed.

Now Wanda was far away, she did not want him near. Lorna did not trust him. The Avengers were no longer his team. He had lost friends, comrades and it was only his fault.

They had all the right to hate him: that was why he had remained still beneath those punches, and would remain standing there again and again if it had been an adequate punishment.

It wasn’t.

He could not be what he should have been.

He knew it, now. He was fully aware of it.

He'd just wanted to be able to close his eyes and let the world forget him, delete him . Annihilate him.

But the world would never leave him alone. And he could never stop doing his best to live up to what he had to. And he will fail again, and would hurt people, and they would have hated him, and everything would be started over, as always.

It was his course: always fail, whatever the target was, no matter how important it was, or how much work and effort cost him.

And now.. now there was Remy.

With him.

In his own room.

Without clothes on them, in his bed, they were.. Pietro closed his eyes. For a moment he had imagined it was someone else and not Remy above him, someone who would have enjoyed to hurt him, to break him, someone who would make him scream and cry and beg him to stop.

The blood was one of the few things that could wash away the torment.

He shivered. Remy looked at him with concern brushing his cheeks.

“Are you all right? It seems..”

“It’s okay.”

He smiled; with an hand Remy touched his chest, and his abdomen. He followed the line of his defined hips and he reached his  legs, already kissed him lightly on his stomach.

Pietro smiled.

“You’re really skilled.”

Remy laughed lightly.

“You deserve it.”

His red eyes looked like lava, or like two enormous, priceless rubies, and under this gaze he felt as he was helpless.. but in a good way.

He was wrong, they were nor lava nor rubies: his eyes looks like blood, and reflected in them, Pietro saw himself as he were immersed in a river of it..

He swallowed fascinated.

He lifted an hand and touched his forehead, then his cheekbone. Remy turned his head to kiss his palm.

Pietro smiled, again.

Remy kissed him, touching his body, making him shiver and moan.

Pietro was stunning.

His beauty was something to take your breath away when he finally rose up the icy mask with which he was ever hiding himself.

His skin was wonderful, perfect, without a mark or a scar, white and soft, fragrant. Remy could not get tired of kissing him. His body was slim and sleek, with hard muscle but lithe, elegant, it followed the movement of his hands with grace. Yes, he often saw him wearing the uniform, and it was tight and left nothing to the imagination, but having Pietro in front of him there, naked, beautiful, it was something impossible to say or explain or understand.

Remy felt excited and elated like never before.

From Pietro were coming waves of strong feelings and desires, his eyes usually so brilliant was now dense and liquid, and showed an opaque deep of desire and passion.

When he shivered, Remy saw his muscles harden, and his body become even more defined.

He kissed his chest, his shoulders, sucked one nipple slightly, smiling at hearing  his smothered moans. When with his fingers he reached the tip of his sex, Pietro almost cried.

“No!”

Remy looked him in the eyes. Pietro was breathing hard, his cheeks flushed, excited.

“It doesn’t seem that..”

“ I’m fast, in.. everything.  – sheepish – If you start in this way, I..”

Remy chuckled.

“You're really fast in everything? – he smiled licking his lips - In every single thing?”

Pietro nodded.

“So, now Remy want to see if it’s true.”

Remy grinned, lowering himself between his thighs.

His sex was hard and shiny, and as soon as he touched it with his tongue felt Pietro squirm, already close to coming.

“Remy! Wait, I cannot..”

Pietro contracted the muscles of his thighs, which became hard, wonderfully exciting. His body was tensed, he quivered slightly as if he could not keep it under his control and his eyes were like two icy fires on the verge of devouring everything.

“You come really quickly, it seems.  But I'm sure that you recover also quickly. It 's fascinating to have a lover who keep up this pace.”

He ran his tongue along its length, then took it in his mouth, and Pietro came with a muffled cry.

Remy sat up, Pietro had his arms over his face, as if he was hiding. He smiled taking his wrists.

"No, Remy wants to look at you. - he looked like a castaway, almost drowned. He was wonderful, abandoned and almost sweet, pink lips parted, reddened cheekbones  and eyes wide open, panting and sweating. He was one of the most exciting sights that Remy had ever seen– You’re.. Remy is about to come just looking at you.”

He kissed him. It was an hungry kiss, they devoured each other, holding and stroking, and biting and clenching.

When they parted for breath Remy took his face in his hands, smiling; he moved on him in a lustful way, so that their bodies touched and tangled.

“You’re.. – he looked at him amazed - you are ready.”

“I told you I’m fast.”

He  blushed more.

Remy smiled, malicious.

“Now tell Remy how to continue.”

He touched his hips, again, his thighs. Pietro bent one leg, allowing him to touch his butt, and smiled.

 “What do I have to tell you more?”

His voice was low and hoarse, sexy and suggestive. He was yelling to fuck him without saying it: it was all incredibly exciting, and it was strange to see how much Pietro knew to be sensual and direct and thrilling.

“Where can Remy find some lube?”

Pietro reached out, slow, sensual, to the nightstand. Remy was about to explode.

He had never seen someone with a such total control of his body, someone who could move in that way, being sensual, elegant and checked out even while he was breathing , or thinking.. or lengthen to take the lube and condoms in the nightstand.

And Remy had seen a lot of people to do it.

Pietro sat in front of him.

“Can I do it?” he purred.

Remy nodded, his throat dry.

Pietro put on him the condom with an hot caress, staring into his eyes with an half smile. Then he opened the lube. He poured a bit on his palm and used it to stroke Remy’s stiff sex: slow movements, experienced, heavy when it was needed, lighter to tickle him.

Remy kissed him squeezing roughly.

“Pietro.. you’re per..”

Pietro put two fingers on his lips.

“Don’t. ”

Then he took his hands and placed them on his hot body. He let him hug him and kiss and push him back on the mattress.

“Where’s the lube? Remy has to prepare you.”

Pietro’s smile became wild.

Remy felt his blood boil in his veins: with that look Pietro could make him do anything.

Almost anything. Certainly fuck fell into the category.

“Stop talking.”

He slightly lifted his buttocks , wrapped his legs on his back and he rubbed himself against his body.

The words ended, thoughts finished.

Every question, doubt, request vanished when Remy slammed into him.

It remained only Pietro’s body,  perfect, inviting, warm and tight against him, around him. His moans, his hands, his kisses, his smell and his damned, perfect ass, round and firm and..

Remy lost his control.

He didn’t need to have any control.

Pietro kissed him, caressed him, moved in an absolutely, totally, completely perfect way. He knew what to do and how to do, and he did it divinely well. He was lava, it was hot, torrid, wonderful, and his moans were low and whispered, so sensual that they would be enough.

No, they weren’t enough.

For a moment it seemed to Remy that nothing could be enough, as if that pleasure, that moment, that warmth could last forever.

He came with a long, deep groan, as if in that moment the world was ending, his world. As if after that moment there would have been nothing more for him, or of him.

A shaky breath escaped from Pietro’s lips, and it sound as if it were the only one worthy end to one of the best orgasms in his life.

 


	5. A broken doll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after sex something breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In italic: memories

It was night. The curtain wide open allow the white moonlight to fill the entire room.

It was not his room: Remy did not have to look far around to be sure. And of course it was hard to forget such a great fuck.

Everything was still and steady. Silent.

The sheets were warm and soft ,and the air was filled with the scent of sex. He must not even move to feel at his  side the warmth of Pietro’s body.

He felt satisfied and content.

It had been wonderful.

Remy smiled.

The shiny moonlight shone on Pietro’s skin, and made him look like silver. Or mercury.

He was beautiful, and he did not understand why he had never thought it could happen that, between them, why he had never thought of Pietro that way, why he had never desired him.

He did not know, or maybe yes, but it was not important. Not now, not after such a night.

Remy had lost count of many times he had come, and how many times he made Pietro come. Maybe it was not a smart thought to do, but wanted to believe that it was great for both: for him it had been.

He moved his hand, he was for touching his shoulders and he froze.

And now?

Now what would he do? What was going on?

Remy felt to start feeling  something, maybe. Or maybe it was just a lie. It was desire, for sure, and lust, and passion. But now he wanted to hug him and kiss him, and comfort him. He did not want to feel that .. that pain come from him. He didn’t want to imagine him searching again of being hurt to expiate.

Now, there, in that bed Remy just wanted to hug him and to promise him that everything would be okay, that he .. that they, that the whole team would have defended him from anyone, even from himself. But was it the truth?

What was happening?

He had never felt so involved, so nervous after a single night of sex.

He was scared of it

He sat up trying to make as little noise as possible, but Pietro was awake.

He was turned on its side, toward the window, his eyes open, in silence. Remy saw only his eyelashes move a couple of times before hearing his voice.

“Go?”

He was.. Pietro. The Pietro that he knew well, the arrogant prick, self-centered bastard.

To Remy seemed that something had frozen in the middle of his chest.

When Pietro turned towards him he saw that he was smiling. But it was like watching a mirror, his smile was just a reflection of their own, there was no warmt, there was no depth. There was nothing in it, in him that looked real and warm.

It was a lie. He cannot..

It had been a lie? Everything?

He would have talked to him, ask him what had happened. He could not do it, because Pietro was looking  at him as if he had torn him something.

And Remy could not figure out what.

Remy shuddered. Often his affairs ended in that way, after sex just a greeting. But that night, for the first time in a long, long time, he had wished that there was a different ending. For once, only for once. Only for him.

And he could swear that he hadn’t wanted to hurt him, or betray him. He just wanted to make him feel good. It seemed to him that Pietro was involved as he was, and even now on his face there was no trace of resentment or hatred, it was just empty.

Empty and cold and.. perfect.

He watched his face, the shape of the cheekbones, the eyes, the crease of the lips under the moonlight and could not think of anything other than that he was perfect, beautiful, alien and distant. Unattainable.

He wanted to ask him why, what happened, how he felt. He wanted to scream no, Remy wouldn’t go, Remy would stay there with him! ‘cause.. But there wasn’t  a reason.

There was nothing. Between them. In him, maybe.

To Remy seemed that his heart would break.

“Yes.” He responded, weak.

Pietro didn’t look at him while he left the room.

\---

_“I cannot! I don’t want! And you cannot force me!”_

_He  was scared, terrified._

_Magneto was in front of him, vaguely bored, as if this conversation between them had already been a thousand times in his head and he perfectly knew what would be decided._

_“Sure, I can not oblige or compel you.  But I need you to do it, and that you do it today. They are waiting for you.”_

_Pietro felt his throat parched, and the fear, the terror, the disgust snatch bits of his soul. He was shaking, and he could not stop._

_“I.. I cannot. I told you, I..”_

_His voice sounded weak and unconvincing. He could not tell him no! He could not! He was Magneto! He would have killed him, or better he would have killed Wanda and he could not stop him or help her, and.._

_He sighed._

_“You don’t want, I know, and I understand very well why. But I need you to do it. We all need your sacrifice.”_

_Pietro clenched his fists, the world that floated before his eyes._

_“I.. you always said to us that they are only humans, that they are waste, that we should be their masters .. and we do not have to crawl before them, and now..”_

_His voice broke._

_He could not do it. He did not want. Not again, please not again!_

_His hands were shaking, he clasped behind his back, so that Magneto not saw them._

_“Yes, I know how much I ask. I know how horrible it is the task that I assign to you, but I know you can do it. You've already done, basically, you're good at this .. – Magneto looked at his slender frame, at its elegant shapes, at his beautiful face and smiled a bit – I’m really sorry, I consider it really a waste, but we need those components and we are not strong enough to rip everything we need by force.”_

_“So you want to use me for..”_

_He no longer had the strength to scream, he had not the strength to speak. He had not the strength to do anything: he did not want to start it again. The hands of strangers on him, to touch him,  their panting, their revolting smell.._

_He had done it, yes, but it was for not to starve, in winter, when he and Wanda had not found enough food._

_Wanda did not know, and she had to continue to not know. Pietro had thought it was over, that Magneto would have asked him to be only a good soldier, and he had accepted everything. He had saved them, he fed them, he took  care of them. He helped them to develop their powers. Yes, he used them  to kill some  people, but it was the price, and Pietro was fine, there was always a price to pay for anything._

_He could not protect Wanda alone, yet. It was not strong enough, was not powerful enough. When he had been, he would have left Magneto, and they would live without suffering, without being injured or hunted down, without anyone trying to hurt them._

_He always said this to Wanda, he promised it every day._

_“During our last meeting they found you attractive. And they have proposed an exchange:  a few hours with you in exchange for a couple of machinery  that we can not do without.”_

_He felt nauseous._

_“I..I’m not..”_

_“You are simply perfect, Quicksilver. You have to understand it well, because this is the key to every single thing you will do in the future. Your body makes you perfect: you're fast, think fast, heal quickly, you're resilient and adaptable. You are light and have a strong control on your body so that you can make it do whatever you need it to do. – He looked at him, icy and strong, directly into his eyes - Your body is your weapon and your defense, your armor and your sword. And you're smart enough to know that a weapon does not always brandished like a sledgehammer.”_

_Pietro closed his lips firmly to suppress the shiver that was running through him._

_Magneto approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder._

_“I'm not sure I can do it.” only a whisper, he could not do anything else._

_He would have liked to have the strength to kneel before him and beg him, entreat him to.._

_It was pointless._

_Pietro knew that, when Magneto had made a decision,  this was an order._

_And they had to obey his orders: he was not a kind man with the traitors. He was not a kind man with anyone._

_He always said that theirs was a mission, it was a crusade in defense of themselves and all mutants, present and future, so they could not give errors, or accept shortcomings. For this they had to sacrifice everything, even more than their lives._

_So, he could not refuse, could not say no, even though he would have preferred to cut his throat right in front of him now, before being touched again in that way. Pietro closed his eyes. He remembered very well those quick meetings in dark and smelly alleys, the feeling of having men on him, inside him. Their thrusts, their breath, their words, their grunts and the disgust and fear and that slimy feeling of having been violated and soiled, marked forever. Often, after finishing, they laughed and said that he was good, that he was not screaming, that he was not trying to escape, that he was sweet and docile, while caressing his silver hair.._

_“It doesn’t matter. – Magneto shocked him, Pietro opened his eyes staring at him, hopefully - If you can not stand it, I can ask Wanda. She looks like you, it will be fine.”_

_A small, smallest evil smile curled his lips in front of the expression of pure absolute terror that was painted on the face of Pietro. He stopped shaking, stopped praying, stopped begging, he became ice, cold and sharp and firm._

_“No! Not  Wanda! Please.. – ho looked at him, defeated . He felt a dull pain in the center of the chest, as if something had snapped and then had broken. - I .. I will go.”_

_He nodded._

_“I was sure that you would have agreed with me: it's a mission for you. You need to train, and learn many more things. In addition, this ability could be your very valuable also for other purposes. - he turned away a few steps, then turned back to look at him - Look at you in the mirror. See what you can be, what you need to become. You're perfect, and you always will be, in spite of their hands and what they will do to you. They will ever want  you, they will ever long  you , they  will ever dream you, many of them would pay anything to have you: it's your body, and you have to learn to use it as the weapon it is. The moral, the fear, the shame are only human nonsense that are not for us. That are not for you. You are perfect when you're so, like now: without fear, without hesitation, decided and ready, as if you were ice. You must be always so perfect, always. You're done for this.”_

 

Petro sat up, sweating and icy, a scream strangled in his throat. His hands were shaking, his heart seemed about to smash his ribs to run out of his chest.

Instinctively reached out a hand to his side: cold sheets, empty. No one. He swallowed, closing his eyes.

Not Wanda, not Crystal, not Luna. No, neither of them. But the smell..

Remy.

Remy, yes. There had to be him, but he was gone. Obviously.

They wanted him only when he was perfect, it had always been like that, ever.

Pietro hid his face in his hands.

And, despite the years, he had not yet learned not to cry.


	6. Leveret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of rabbits, hares, and various other misfortunes..

Remy didn't want to sit down into the kitchen eating his breakfast as nothing was happened.

He felt as he was betrayed, even if it wasn't true: he and Pietro had shared nothing, it was only sex. Good, hot sex, but sex. No duties, no obligations, no promises. Nothing than sex.

Why it was so hurtful, even if it was the truth?

Remy sighed while he scratched Figaro behind his hears. The cat purred loud.

It was madness to feel so sad and hurt for nothing at all. 

He could not think about it without feeling sad or angry. Or both.

But, in the end, he could not shut himself into his bedroom, trying to ignore the outside world.

The cats looked at him with piercing eyes.

He tried to be strong when he entered the kitchen

The table was perfectly void, there was no one.

He went out into the corridor and met Lorna, she was frowning.

"I do not understand what happened to all of you!- she sounded really upset then she sighed- We have put forward some pancakes, if you need to eat."

Remy nodded, then curiosity got the upper hand.

"What happened Lorna? Where are they all?"

She shrugged.

"Pietro woke up very early and really nervous this morning. Some Serval engineers invented a special check routine only to keep him busy at least up to mid morning. Dough was really upset, and you - she pointed a finger at him - you slept around again, didn't you?"

He sighed.

"Lorna, please, not now."

She frowned

"I should kick all your asses! You act as if you were a group of hysterical teenagers!"

She turned around, angry, leaving him alone. 

Some cold pancakes were not a good solution for his moodiness, surely,so he went to the laboratories where it was to help some doctor to measure the resistance of he-don’t-remember-what.

When he met Dough and he stared at him as if he had seen one of his mortal enemies, Remy really thought that it was better to spend the day in his room, refusing to leave until they were returned back to normal.

Dough sent away a technician with whom he was discussing a processor, or something similar, pointed a finger at Remy and commanded: “Come with me”.

“Boy, I have to..”

Remy tried.

He was adamant; he showed him a door leading to a small laboratory, perhaps his own, and Remy obeyed.

Inside Warlock was checking the data, Dough had no kindness for him even.

“Go out!”

He looked Dough with his usual incomprehensible way.

“Is Self upset?”

Warlock looked from Dough to Remy, and then again on Dough, ready to continue to talk, but Dough don’t let him do.

“Go out. I need to speak alone with Remy.”

Warlock looked doubtful, but he did as he was asked.

Remy smiled.

“Look, Dough..”

He turned toward him, furious.

“The other night you had sex with him!”

It certainly was not a question.

Remy played the card of being naïve.

“Remy? What..”

Dough not let him finish. He pressed a button and at least a dozen screens were filled with images of video surveillance: he and Pietro kissing on the couch, he and Pietro clinging in the hallway, he pushing him against the wall two feet from his room, shoving his hands under his the shirt.

“So?”

Dough stared at him with his arms crossed, and a tough expression on his face.

Remy sighed. Was it possible that he could never keep for himself something he thought was important? He did not want to talk about it, especially with Dough, moreover now when he had not yet understood what he felt, and why he felt this way, and why he was so annoyed that Doug had put his nose in his own private thing, and..

“Listen, kid, sometimes the things that happen between two adults are simpler than they seem.”

Remy tried to smile. Dough frowned more.

“So, you fucked him.”

Remy ran an hand through his hair, close to exasperation

“It seems. Why do not you go ask him? So you can spend the afternoon to tell each other how asshole Remy is.”

He shrugged, bitter, angry and disappointed.

“You’re an idiot! Why are not you with him now?”

Remy snapped.

“Dough, stop it! We just fucked, nothing happened! It was not anything important, and I assure you that here in a week neither he nor I will remember it!”

“Dou you want to know why I like him? – his voice softened. Remy looked him almost shocked - Because he never calls me boy, or little one or some shit like that. Because he does not treat me like I'm stupid and he does not tell me lies on the fact that for adults is easier or more difficult, and I cannot understand just because I'm ten years younger than him. He listens to me, he did not call into question the work I do, and asks me advice. He tells me that with computers are the best of all, in here, and he doesn’t understand why he should go and ask some technician if he can come to me.”

Remy shook his head

"You are obviously very good, Dough! Nobody ever thought otherwise,  the other way you would not be here!”

He looked at him with a small smile.

"You ever told me? You or Lorna, or Mr. Snow? – Remy opened his mouth but Dough didn’t let him reply - It does not matter, now you know why. Now answer me: why are not you with him?”

The last thing Remy wanted was to talk about Pietro with Doug, especially when he did not know to say to himself.

“It’s a bit too.. personal, Dough. It’s something between Pietro and Remy.”

Dough was sad.

“You don’t love him, don’t you?”

Remy smiled.

“Remy doesn’t think he loves him, too.”

“Why aren’t you able to answer a question without another question? – he sighed. - I feel sorry for him, you are one to one night stands, and he's looking for something else. Why do you let him to get hurt?”

It seemed to Remy to be hit with a punch straight to the pit of the stomach.

He had been aware of the fil rouge that he had connected the last choices of Pietro, his desire to be punished to be able to exhale, the pursuit of pain, humiliation, rejection: he had seen clearly inside of him, but he not understood to be part of the same pattern. He hadn’t seen it even though it was quite obvious.

 

Pietro was an asshole: Remy suddenly felt used, and together .. he felt bad for him.

Dough was staring at him intently, with his sharp eyes. His power was to be able to read and understand any language quickly, and usually he used it to program. But the body had its own language, after all.

Remy felt naked in front of him, naked and defenseless.

Dough smiled, bitter and sad.

“He.. ran away.”

“Obviously, running is part of his being, it is his first instinctive reaction. Maybe the only one. He is s made to run.”

Dough was looking at him in a more sympathetic way. Remy allowed himself the luxury of showing annoyance.

“So Remy should treat him as if he were a leveret..”

Dough chuckled.

“A leveret? it's cute! - then he shook his head – Listen, Remy, I’m not here to teach you how to do with Pietro, or what to do. I just do not want you .. throw away something without knowing what it is. Pietro is really good at hiding himself and at confusing people. I spent a lot of time - he blushed - to study him.”

Remy smiled.

“And what did you find?”

“Not much more than what I have already said.”

Remy frowned.

“So your advice is.. to hunt him?”

“Of course not! He’s a leveret !He’s much more fast than you!”

Remy grunted.

“Of course, he’s standing just in front of the headlights of a car when he is about to be hit!” he muttered.

“It’s instinct: when an hare frightened and didn’t believe he could get away, he pretend to be dead, or attempt to become the less attractive as possible for ha predator. – Dough frowned – Why are we talking about rabbit, now?”

Remy's eyes widened.

A predator.

Pietro wanted to send him away, to keep him at a distance only to save himself. Pietro was.. was afraid of him.

Pietro had allowed him to do what he wanted, he had tried to satisfy him in every single way he could imagine: that was what had happened. Remy remembered well his body, his way of moving, so skilled, so clever, so damned sexy.

Remy had seen he did it only for him. Pietro could not be comfortable with his leg folded in that way, or his neck.

And Pietro had not stopped for a moment to smile at him, but Remy knew recognize a smile, isn’t he? He knew it, damn! He knew and he hadn’t noticed! He had ignored it. He had claimed that it was all right, it was simply normal that Pietro allowed him to fuck him in that way, as if there were nothing more than them, as if there were no duty, or obligations, or responsibilities, or another shit of what Pietro was always worried about!

Pietro had made sure that Remy was satisfied, that he had what he wanted and then he made sure to send him away: he was a filthy manipulative bastard!

Remy felt hurt inside. He did not want to harm anyone, he did not want Pietro felt compelled, he did not want Pietro  was afraid of him! He just wanted to ..

The door opened behind him. Along with Warlock came in Danger.

“If Self want to beat Remy, I asked Danger for help.”

Dough frowned, Remy shocked his head.

“Dough is a genius. – he laid his hands on Dough’s shoulders - Remy owes you a favor.”


	7. Between us..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pietro and Remy talk.

Remy wanted to try it. He could not know now what would have happened. He could not know anything, but he knew that he wanted to try.

For sure he wanted to talk with Pietro. Explain himself. Ask him what had happened, and why.

The day had been long, Remy had spent it immersed in his thoughts. Sometimes he wanted to bang his head against the wall: how could he have thought that Pietro would have behaved like .. like a normal person? How could he imagine that behind that his being so docile there was nothing more? Nothing different? Nothing deep?

At dinner time he had hoped to find him in the kitchen, Lorna warned him that there he wasn’t.

"He has eaten before. Or out. I have not figured out where. He is checking the perimeter defenses, now. Why? Are you two going to fight again?"

Remy sighed. Dough gave him a half smile of understanding.

It was evening and then it was night. Remy waited for him in the hall turned on the television without hearing what it was transmitting. At first Lorna and Dough were with him, and then, one after the other had left.

It was late, but he heard him go back, not by noise, but by the feeling that gave the air shift: it  was almost a caress, very light, that he could recognize only after a little experience.

He did not cross the common areas, but Remy was not one to shy away for so little. He heard him go to the bathroom, take a long shower, and then close in on his room.

He smiled to himself, the moment had arrived.

\--

Pietro was tired, and fatigue was good. The fatigue prevented him from thinking, to have doubts. The fatigue showed him to have done something, and maybe, if he had done enough, he would be able to fall asleep without dreams.

The nightmares had returned after a long absence, he could not say why they returned, nor what had happened to wake them up. Perhaps there was no why. It was just so.

He was tired, tired of not sleeping, tired of being afraid, tired of being a failure, tired of not being what he should be. And now Remy: why? Why the hell he had wanted him? There were not enough people in the world, men or women, for him?

It probably was a challenge, his whole life seemed a kind of bet. It had amused him, he hoped, and now .. now would be finished. Pietro sighed:  being alone was a kind of blessing.

It was better that way: it was terrible to see the confidence breaking, see the disappointment in the eyes of those who looked at him, anger, hatred. He was tired of everything.

For a moment, foolishly, he had hoped that for once, just once, things might be different. That there might be more than desire. Pietro hated the desire that he was able to call forth, Pietro hated himself for this. Yet, it didn’t change anything: no matter how cold and distant and hateful he could be, it always did.

He could not stop being what he was. Sometimes he wanted only to tear his skin off and scream no!, he was only a boy! And he did not want! He had never wanted to! He was not so! He swear it! He didn’t want to start it! And now..

Now, Remy.

A teammate! There was one thing more stupid and silly thing to do?

He knew it would happen sooner or later: the night before he allowed himself to be vulnerable, to feel fragile.. he knew it! It was for years that he knew he had not to. But he failed.

He failed, obviously. This, too, was a power of his, it seemed. He always failed, whatever happened.

If Lorna had known he would have kicked out, and she would have been right. Maybe Remy would be silent. Surely, he did not like to brag openly about his conquests as if they were medals to show everyone; maybe you would be lucky and it would be as if nothing had happened.

He sat down on the bed.

He felt alone. He felt tired and disappointed.

Why?

He laughed to himself: of course, what did he expect? Remy swore eternal love to him? Yeah, right. He ran a hand through his hair still wet.

He had to regain control, he had to stop being so moody, he had to resume his role and do what had to be done. He had to be efficient, and should not matter whether they hated him or not. It was not important. He had to put his life back on track, had to be strong and perfect.

He swallowed, clenching his fists.

Perfect. How he hated that word..

But, it was the only thing he had, now that Wanda was far away, now that Lorna had no need of him, now that Crystal had said for the umpteenth time she do not want to have anything to do with him.. it was Luna. Yes, he could become a better person for her, he was not sure being able to do, but he would have tried and tried and tried.

What could he do differently? He just had nothing. He just..

A slight knock on the door made him lift his head

He was not in the mood!

He sighed, but he had to. Maybe it was Lorna.

He opened the door: it was Remy.

Something froze inside.

He sighed.

“Remy, I’m tired, and I need some rest.”

Remy smiled, with his damned flirting smile.

“Remy needs to talk to you. Only a few minutes, please.”

His eyes gleamed red, fascinating.

Pietro shrugged.

“Come on in, but be quick. It was a tiring day.-he let him in, closing the door behind him, then turned toward him, arms folded – So?”

Remy smirked running an hand through his hair. He looked at him with a small smile.

“You don’t waste your time ever, don’t you?”

“Why should I? If you came to band, Remy, I alert you that I have no time nor desire. And now..”

“I need to talk to you about last night.”

Pietro tensed a little, then smirked. He was the Pietro that Remy had always known: cold and distant, with that arrogant and amused expression on his face.

He hated that Pietro.

“Nothing happened last night.- he puckered up a bit his nose-And, anyway..”

Pietro waved a hand in the air, Remy grabbed his wrist, determined. He felt well the shiver  that ran through his skin, he saw his eyes getting colder, as if he was bolstering his defenses.

Dough was right: it was a instinctive reaction. If it was not for his control he would simply run away, his whole body was ready to snap. He didn’t do it, Pietro stood still, looking cold and vaguely angry into his yes.

“Remy needs to talk to you. About last night. And Remy needs you to listen him, d'accord?”

He frowned, Remy felt another shiver, this time deeper, but he remained still.

“And what should you say? - his sharp voice was just a whisper –You liked it and you would want to do it again, maybe. Or you hope we become friends with benefits.  In both cases, my answer is no. Now let me go.”

He jerked his arm to free himself, Remy would not let him.

“No, Remy wanted to tell you that he didn’t want to hurt you. He’s really sorry.”

He snorted a grin.

“I hate the way you talk. In so many years you have not been able to learn? I am a stranger, but I think I speak better than you.”

“Sure, so European, so smart, so chic.. – he gripped his wrist with more force between his  fingers – Don’t you think to distract Remy with these tricks? This is not an answer, and Remy wants one.”

“What answer would you like? Are you sorry? Ok, you are. You told me, now I know and it's all right. Now please - and the shiver became a tremor, Pietro drew back his shoulders as if he were afraid of losing control - let me go! Better , go away, you have nothing to do here!”

“Remy does not want you to be afraid of him. He did not want to hurt you the other night and he did not want to hurt you now. Why do you want to get away from him?”

Pietro smiled a cold, terrible, perfect and shiny smile. Remy stood breathless for one moment: it was going on what had happened the previous night, only in a faster way. And he could not allow it, he had to take control of that speech.

“I'm not afraid of you.”

“Why do you want to run away, then? ”

“Because you are bothering me. - Remy came up to him as much as possible, the hassle of Pietro was becoming abundantly clear. His voice broke. – I.. I hate to be..”

Remy looked into his blue eyes, slightly amused.

“Trapped.”

He left his wrist. In a blur Pietro was on the other side of the room, his back pressed against the wall, shocked and scared and angry.

Remy went near him again, smiling, and he stopped in front of him. Close to him.

This was better .

Pietro widened his eyes in panic.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Remy wants to try, Pietro. Try to stay with you. He does not want to force you, or hurt you, but he doesn’t want to leave you alone, now, when you look so scared.”

“I have a wife!”

Remy laughed.

“You have divorced, and your wife has remarried.”

So stubborn and so sweet. Remy wanted only to hug him and to kiss him, now.

“She left her new husband.”

“But Remy think she doesn’t want to get back with you: she wouldn’t remarried otherwise, or she wasn’t going on cheating you. - Pietro looked down at the floor  -Remy, however, doesn’t want anyone else than you. ”

“I know she doesn’t love me anymore.”

“Look at Remy.”

He put his hands on the wall, on either side of Pietro’s head.

“Don’t..”

“Pietro? Please.”

His voice was low and sweet. He didn’t sound dangerous, he didn’t sound aggressive. His voice didn’t sound like..

Pietro swallowed hard and lifted his face; he could not do anything else, could not think of anything else. A small part of him still foolishly hoped that all those words, for once could be true, not lies, not only breath and nothing else. He knew that was not possible, he knew it was an illusion, but he felt so fragile and frightened that he could no longer keep track of anything, not even his thoughts. If he had trusted and Remy had .. but who cares? He was used to it, he was good at pretending that certain things did not exist and never existed, after all.

Remy saw the terror in his eyes, fear, remorse, desire to escape, the need to run away and then confusion and desire and something deep in him that was moving and responding as if it was something alive and screaming.

Remy cupped his face with his hands, Pietro froze.

Abruptly, everything became motionless in him; his eyes looked like two icy mirrors, the vibration was shaking him was gone. Even the thoughts, the emotions, the feelings seemed evaporated. It had remained an empty, beautiful, shining broken shell, which would have been able to give Remy everything he wanted to, without asking.

Remy felt hot, the desire bit him in the guts. He was ready to take him, strip him, throw him on the bed and fuck him like it was the last night of his life, there and now. Right now. Right away. It was like a siren, something mysterious and intoxicating calling him and promised him the realization of any desire.

Remy staved off the temptation, focusing on Pietro. On his beautiful, shiny, broken gaze, on his perfect, void face. On his motionless lips, on his pale, fake smile. He remembered that wonderful smile: it promised and then realized, it gave pleasure and passion.. and pain. He didn’t want to see that look on Pietro’s face for his fault. Not again.

“Who did this to you?” he murmured.

Pietro’s lips trembled.

“W..what?”

“Who did this to you? Tell Remy. He’ll kill him. ” He stocked his cheekbones with his thumbs, frowning .

Pietro’s eyes widened, then the sadness returned, and the shame. He blushed, his eyes became glossy. He blinked trying not to cry, then he looked away from Remy: he was not able to say such things, looking him straight in the eye.

“Them.” he sought.

“Remy don’t..”

He become silent, there was nothing else to say. Remy did not even want to think about it now.

 He simply took Pietro between his arms and hugged him.

 


	8. Stay here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comforting talk and else...

Remy slowly ran his fingers through his silver hair, the smell of sex that there had been between them was exciting, but it was too satisfied to desire more pleasure.

Pietro smiled, continuing to pretend to be asleep.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, it’s almost morning.”

Pietro his eyes slowly turned to look at the alarm clock on his nightstand.

“Unfortunately.”

Remy took him in his harms, Pietro settled his head on his shoulder and smiled, kissing him.

“You slept well, I think.”

A little, pale smile crept on his lips. A real one.

“Yes, thanks to you.”

Remy passed two fingers on his chin, then his neck.

“Remy’s such a lucky man.” he sighed.

“Because you have me in your harms, or because I thanks you with such enthusiasm?”

They both chuckled.

Remy looked at him closing slowly his eyes, again, clutching at him.

Pietro was so abandoned that sometimes Remy could hardly recognize him : obviously he could not be as calm as anyone else, but he was still wonderful. And, sure, when he was working, he was his usual, boring and arrogant self. But when they shut the bedroom door behind them he turned into the creature he had in his arms.

He was never tired of him, of his scent, of his warmth. The way he touched him was stunning, the way he moaned was absolutely exciting, the way he looked at him and beg for him was simply perfect. Remy  did not even bother to look up a name for what he felt: it did not matter. They had not promised anything to each other, they had not done pledges nor wows. They were warriors, soldiers, they were adults, they knew what they were doing and there was no need.. Remy’s heart skipped a beat.

He kissed his shoulders.

He loved his skin: so white and soft. Each wound healed in sight, leaving no mark on him.

He loved the way he had of looking at him, he loved his half smile, almost shy; he loved when he was embarrassed  and he also loved when he burst out in front of the others. He loved the way in which he blushed and the way he moaned softly when he was close to orgasm, the way he had to stretch his back, stiffening his muscles in that sensual manner, the way his lips parted when he was gasping, the light in his eyes when he wanted him.

“Remy’s crazy about you.” he muttered.

Pietro smiled a bit.

“Don’t say that. I could believe it.”

“It would be a bad thing?”

“It would be difficult to pretend that nothing is happening, don’t you think?”

Remy stared at the ceiling. Have his breath next to him, feel his warmth, it was something to which he was  accustomed too quickly.

It was scary.

He had stopped thinking about Rogue, eventually she had clearly said that she preferred to hanging out with someone else, that he had been important for her, but now it was over. It was the first time he felt no pain to think about her and he thought he should thank Pietro for this.

None of them, however, spoke of it. Neither about Rogue nor about Crystal, neither about Magneto nor about anyone else who might claim to have a special bond with one of them.

Often they didn’t speak at all, and this was something that recently saddened Remy. He did not knew why, or rather, he tried carefully to avoid thinking about why he was so grieved about that.

“But something is happening.”

Pietro moved nervous at his side. Remy was expecting a refuse , a rejection, something sharp and harsh.

“Yes, it seems.”

Remy felt Pietro’s eyes upon him, caressing his face, and he smiled looked at him.

“Remy didn’t expect it.”

“Neither I.- he sighed, closing his eyes, so blue and intense that it was hard to believe that they were real – I’m sorry, Remy. I didn’t..”

He closed his mouth with a sweet kiss.

“Do not apologize, there is no reason to do so. Sometimes things just happen.- he smiled at him then laughed - You continue to not be at ease when Remy asks you to relax!”

Pietro smirked.

“I’m not used to relax.”

Remy kissed his forehead.

“To Remy you seem a lot more relaxed lately.”

They laughed both, again.

Pietro didn’t seem to have never laughed so much in his life. He was happy and content. He was.. in love?

He closed his eyes, scared that Remy could read in him how much he was stupid and silly.

Love wasn’t manlike.

Love was a silly, void fantasy that..

“Why you’re sad? Remy doesn’t like it.”

He touched his chin and forced him to raise his face towards him. His deep red eyes caressed him, in them Pietro saw himself as he was plunged in a river of blood.

“I was thinking of something old and unimportant. A phrase that I repeated often to myself..”

Remy frowned.

“Remy does not like when you think of days gone by; when you think of that past which makes you suffer.”

They had never spoken about it. Remy had not demanded more, and Pietro had not said anything. It had been like a shadow without a name hovering over them.

“Sometimes blood is the only thing that can give relief.”

It was like break a limit, make a hole in a dam or remove a stone from an arch. It was like the first time that he had broken the sound barrier, that overwhelming feeling that suddenly was gone, that feeling lighter, faster, perfect.

Perfect and..

Remy laid an hand on his shoulder.

“Pietro, calm down. You’re starting to.. vibrate. Remy doesn’t think is good for you and for him, and for this bed, too.” he tried to smile.

Pietro blinked, raising his hands.

“I am still, now? Sometimes I..”

He took his hand and kissed his palm

"Are you still. It's All right. Did not run away from Remy, please.”

“I am here.”

“With your mind. With your heart. – Remy propped himself up on one elbow to look at him straight in the eye, laying a hand on his chest- Let go the blood. I know that you will never forget it, because it happened and hurt you. But now is not the same as before. You are no longer as you were before. You are not alone anymore.”

Pietro blinked again, touched.

“I know I should talk to you about what has happened.” He whispered.

“No, you should’t. You talk to Remy of that when you want, and just because you feel ready to do so. You do not have to do anything you don’t want to, - he smiled - not with Remy.”

Pietro closed his eyes, leaning on his chest.

“I – Pietro was about to tell him he loved him, it narrowly escaped his lips. He could not tell him, he should not. He was afraid, and he didn’t want to drag Remy down whit him. Whatever had happened between them, he had always wanted that Remy had a simple way out from this situation. No duties and no obligations: it was easier in this way, it was the best choice for Remy. And for himself. Or maybe not, he don’t know. But he knew it was dangerous to talk about feelings, and he was not able to do so. He had never been able to. If he had been able everything would be different, and it would never end so, and .. and maybe it would not have been Remy with him, now. He repressed a shiver closing his eyes against his chest. – I have to thank you, Remy.”

He caressed his back, slowly, for a few minutes, in silence, without answering anything. It was nice.

No, it was perfect.

The silence, the pace, the warmth, the sweetness: everything was absolutely perfect.

Pietro felt his throat tighten in a knot.

“Can you tell me one thing, Remy?”

He felt him smile.

“Of course!”

“Tell me.. – he murmured, tried not to shiver- tell me again that I am not alone.”

Remy kissed his hair.

“You’re not alone, Pietro. You are no longer alone. Remy is here, with you. Remy will l.. ”

“Do not say it. – he stopped him, without look at him. – I don’t asked you to lie for me. I don’t want.”

“And what do you want?” Remy was smiling.

“I.. I don’t know.- a muffled chuckle – I'm confused. I feel silly and childish. I should go for a run, I think better when I run. Everything is easier, simpler, more beautiful when I run. The world seems to have no importance, it seems not even exist. It seems that there is nothing around me. It seems to me to be perfectly alone and perfectly in place.”

“Remy can tell you what he really thinks?”

Pietro lifted his eyes on him. He met his red, deep, shiny eyes, and smiled.

“You don’t like to be alone, you do not like to sleep alone: it is the first thing you said to Remy the first night we talked, remember?” he touched his cheek

Pietro frowned.

“So, do you think I am lying?”

“No, Remy thinks you’re lying to yourself. Because you’re afraid, maybe.”

“I’m not..”

“Fear of words. – he continued, sweetly – Fear of feelings. Of what you feel, or what Remy feels for you. Running is your nature, Remy thinks it’s normal that you like to do it, but sometimes you simply run away because you’re scared.”

Pietro blushed, he kissed him.

“Remy likes you because you’re afraid to show that you’re fragile and human as everyone else, and  this is something that Remy understands very well. Remy cannot promise to you it’ll last forever, and everything will be perfect, but he can tell you one thing: he’s  fine with you, and he want to be with you. He wish you’d let him be near you, with you, no matter if you want or not want to tell him something. He likes you a lot.”

“I’m.. I’m sorry.”

Remy laughed.

"You have not listened Remy, right?”

Pietro lay on his back next to him, looking at the ceiling, then he turned to Remy.

“I like you, too.” slightly embarrassed.

“It’s already one step ahead.”

“And you’re right. I’m afraid to .. – it took a lot of courage to say it – to become attached to you.”

Remy kissed him, slowly, sweetly.

He touched his nose with his own.

“To fall in love. - Pietro closed his lips, shivering. Remy smiled at him – Is Remy right?”

“Remy has promised me not to force me to say anything that I did not want, or I'm afraid of. I’m right? - Pietro didn’t seem angry. He was smiling, a bit shy. - But yes, you're right. I'm afraid to fall in love with you. You're not the kind of man with whom you can fall in love with levity.”

Remy nodded seriously.

“You too. You’re beautiful, serious, professional, arrogant, damn smart. It’s hard to imagine of being able to stay at your own pace. You’re infinitely attractive, and there are dark, hard, sharp shadows within you that looks like they’re able to cut your heart in pieces. It’s impossible to think of being able to fight against them and destroy them, even if Remy would give everything to be able to do it. Remy was scared of falling in love with you, too, but he thinks you worth it.”

He caressed his head.

“We’re both in trouble, it seems.”

Remy nodded, clasping him in his arms.

“Remy likes these trouble though. You're a very sexy mess. -  they chuckled. Then Remy sighed – But if Remy remained here until it’s time to go to have breakfast, would it be so bad for you that the others know you and Remy sleep together?”

It was a difficult and sudden question. Pietro was not expecting it. It was scary and together he felt extremely comfortable, in front of it.

It had finally arrived, and finally he knew where to find the strength to give the answer he wanted to give.

Maybe it would not last forever, maybe it would not be the true and pure and deep love that it is said in the books, maybe they would have died both during the next mission. Anything could have happened, but he did not want to worry about everything that could or could not happen, he did not want to think about and worry about every little chance or obligation in the universe. He did not want to remember the pain as if it was the only thing to which he could aspire in his entire life.

Maybe, for once, it would have been different, but he would have never known another way.

“Yes, stay here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading to the end. Thanks so much!  
> I also ask sorry if my english is not perfect


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